Eyes on the Chord
by made.for.life
Summary: Audrey was a nice young woman, a fine lady but she wasn't the Cellist. She wasn't the nearly mystical being who had been wiped from his mind. No, the Cellist was locked away deep inside the HYDRA swarmed FRIDGE and Coulson is determined to find said Cellist.


Coulson scowled at the floor. It wasn't right. The Cellist, Audrey, she was nice. Good. She loved him but he, what was he feeling? It wasn't love. Audrey was indeed a cellist but, she wasn't his Cellist. No. Cellist was some kind of code in his head. A someone that had been wiped from his memory. He stood suddenly and stormed to the front of the bus.

They were on their way to the FRIDGE. HYDRA had decided to lock a bunch of SHIELD agents, ironically, in the very same prison they themselves had been stuck in. Ward was suiting up. Skye was hacking away. Fitz and Simmons were chattering over some trivial detail of their equipment.

"Hello sir." Simmons greeted, trailing off after seeing his face.

He flashed past, pushing through the doors. Coulson went through the living space. He finally shoved the door into the cabin of the BUS.

"Who's the Cellist?" He demanded.

May's head whipped around. "What?"

"Who is the Cellist?" He asked more forcefully. "Honestly, the least you and Fury could have done was leaving the memories of her alone."

"What do you mean?" May looked truly lost. "Didn't we just save her?"

"Not Audrey." Coulson shook his head. "The real one. The one Fury hid."

He stopped blaming her, honestly seeing that she was confused.

"That wasn't her?" The woman looked forward frowning.

Coulson didn't answer. He was frozen, frozen with a singular image. A hand. It gripped one single taunt cord. He felt so much for that image. His Cellist. That was all he had left of her was that single image. A hand on a string.

"No, it wasn't." He said slowly. He was desperately grasping the image as it slid, slippery, out of his mind. "I could understand and empathize with her love but not to her. There's someone else. I know there's someone else."

He hadn't actually come up here to share his feelings. He came to accuse her of some other awful thing but perhaps unconsciously he felt comfortable. She was like the mothering presence in his life and he was man enough to admit he wanted one. But another want was still more desperate.

May was still just looking ahead. Then her head turned. "I'm so sorry Phil. Those shouldn't have been taken from you. I'm actually not sure why they would be." She trailed off. "Is there anyone Fury wouldn't have wanted you with?"

Coulson snorted. "This is Director Fury we're talking about, he probably has a black list of people not to have sex with." Then he just stopped as a thought came streaming into his mind. "I never slept with my Cellist." He said astonished in spite of himself.

May looked back out the window. "Why?"

He scrubbed at his forehead trying to bring up more information. "I don't know. Nothing else is coming willingly. I'm only getting the tiniest pieces of anything."

Ward suddenly poked in the door. "Sir, there's a transmission for you and it doesn't look friendly."

He stood up, immediately composing his face. "On my way."

He swept into the main console room. May trailed in, having put the plane in autopilot. Everyone was gathered around the holotable. Skye was squinting at the image. It was blurred and distorted so it barely looked human.

"Phil Coulson." It wheezed over and over again.

"Present." The agent put in jauntily.

The voice changed, twisting into a demented laugh. "We know. You're always present and that's key. We don't like it. So we have something of yours. Or someone."

A brief image flashed on the screen. A single person. Indistinguishable but the image made Coulson's heart contract. A memory, long forgotten, another time he had seen Cellist tied up. Who? Who was she?

"Your precious Cellist perhaps?" The voice hissed. "We're waiting."

The transmission made a zapping sound and disappeared. Coulson held his head. It was so sore.

"Sir, they're lying." Fitz placated.

"Yeah." Skye added. "Audrey is safe and sound. She's on her computer right now." She spun the laptop to show her proof.

"Audrey is a nice girl." Coulson bit out stiffly, "But she is not my Cellist. A cellist, yes but not the one that is blocked out of my memory."

"She's not?" Simmons asked in shock.

"No." He sat down heavily. "My Cellist is apparently locked in the FRIDGE."

The whole BUS suddenly shook.

"Which we seem to have approached." May observed, vanishing back to the control room.

The room jerked and Fitz grabbed a table for stability.

"We'll get her back sir." Simmons told him seriously.

Ward nodded in agreement.

"Well you'd better be ready then." May came on over the comm system. "It looks like hell down there."

The BUS sunk low over the extremely tall building.

"Open it." Coulson demanded.

The bay door dropped slowly and everyone flinched back as tongues of fire spat numerous bullets towards the door. Ward stepped forward and took them down carefully with a large weapon.

"Clear." He reported keeping his eye to the scope.

Coulson and Skye jumped down. Simmons and Fitz were next as they had both insisted on coming. Finally when everyone was down Ward jumped off.

"Move the BUS." Coulson hollered.

The big black machine hulkingly dove out of sight.

"Let's move." He led them toward the double doors.

He and the specialist took point. Simmons stayed near the back with Fitz and their equipment. Skye nervously paced at Ward's side. For everyone there was also the fascination of simply entering the FRIDGE. Coulson peeked around the corner and declared it clear.

"We'll have to hack the elevator." Fitz muttered.

He hooked the computer up and started tacking away at the keyboard. Coulson knelt by the two guard who had clearly been shot in the head.

"Ward, give a hand with these." He sighed.

The agent set down his rifle. They dragged the two men out of the elevator. Simmons watched them sadly but focused on helping Fitz.

"Got it." He exclaimed. "What floor?"

"Prison floor." Coulson barked.

"Which one? There are five in use." Fitz asked, strained.

The doors slid closed.

"Start from the top?" Ward suggested. "It's easier to fight down than up."

The older agent nodded. "The top prison floor."

Fitz looked back. "Floor 187 it is."

Skye gasped. "How tall is this monster?"

"Tall." Ward shrugged.

Skye rolled her eyes. "Thanks secret agent man."

The doors to the box dinged, happy to have occupants. They slid apart. Suddenly, bullets riddled the back of the elevator.

"Look out." Ward yelled.

He spread his arms pressing Fitz and Simmons to the side of the elevator with him. Skye and Coulson huddled against the other wall. A bullet skimmed Ward's shoulder, drawing blood but he didn't notice.

"Get us moving!" Coulson yelled.

Fitz trembled on the floor, jamming his fingers on the door button and the keyboard. "I can't! They've taken the control from me!"

"Did you try to reboot the system?" Skye shouted frantically.

"You think I didn't try that?"

He tipped the laptop, pushing at the cord. He tipped it a bit too far and it fell. Projectiles pierced the flat back and tore through the keyboard. The SHIFT key flew off onto the ground near Skye's foot. She picked it up in shock. The scientist looked at it in open mouthed horror. He reached out to it in stunned automatic motions. Ward pressed his arm back.

"No." Fitz moaned.

The gunfire didn't slow at all. It pounded away at the back of the box. Dents riddled the once smooth surface. Coulson pressed back as far as he could. The gun fire dulled suddenly. It changed directions, switched to a new target. It stopped hitting the back of the elevator all together then it just stopped. It went completely silent. There was a soft, wet sound like a knife through a hunk of meat. The team stayed frozen. Near silent footsteps moved beyond the stuck open doors. Skye barely twitched but the SHIFT key slid from her fingers. It hit the floor with a gentle clack. The steps beyond cut off abruptly.

There was a sliding sound.

"So tell me." A male's voice called dangerously. "Are you SHIELD or HYDRA?"

Coulson seemed to relax almost instantly. "SHIELD." He answered.

They looked at him like he was crazy.

"Can you prove it?" The guy unseen asked.

"Yeah." Coulson affirmed immediately.

There was a pause. "Then do so or I swear you will all end up dead."

"Sir!" Simmons squeaked.

Coulson stepped out of the elevator.

"Phil?" The voice wasn't so dangerous.

Everyone sagged away from the walls to peek around the bend. A taller figure lowered his arms and with them a complicated crossbow and a notched arrow.

"Oh my God." Ward mouthed softly.

The male stepped out of his archer's stance and clicked the arrow back into the tube on his back.

"Ya' know," He walked over to a HYDRA person with an arrow in their chest. "Tasha and I have been wondering when you were going to show your face again." He pulled the projectile out and put it away.

Coulson frowned. "You knew?"

"Who's that?" Skye hissed to her SO.

"We all did." The guy nodded. "You know where your Captain America trading cards are?"

"They were buried." Coulson answered automatically.

The other laughed. "Wrong. Steve's got 'em in his pocket. All autographed and when he sees you, you'll get them all back."

Coulson's eyes widened. "Clint if you're joking…"

"Why would I joke?" He turned back having retrieved all his arrows.

"Steve as in?" Skye whispered.

"After Tony hacked SHIELD we kind of got our hands on a few files, including your resurrection files." The male grinned.

"Tony as in?" Skye asked a little louder.

The guy looked at her. "Steve as in Captain America, Tony as in Iron Man, Tasha as in Black Widow, and me."

"As in Hawkeye." Ward said. "One of the fiercest and most accurate SHIELD members ever."

Clint flicked her a brief salute. "Hello. We should probably get out of here."

"We can't." Coulson interjected immediately. "We are here to rescue some people down below. Someone rather close to me is down there."

"The Cellist?" The archer asked as he turned away for a moment.

Coulson opened his mouth and worked his jaw before find his words eagerly. "Yeah, do you know her?"

Clint shrugged with his back to them. "A little."

"Who is she?"

He shook his head. "Well why don't we go empty those cells blocks. There's some stairs over here." He opened a door and started down to escape.

"Clint!" Coulson hurried to follow. "Clint, come back here."

Skye ran with him. Ward stayed back behind Fitz and Simmons protectively.

"Did not think we would run into that kind of company." Ward muttered.

"_The _Hawkeye." Simmons stressed. "Do you think he was locked up?"

They got into the stairwell. Skye was against the door to the next floor, watching. Gun fire echoed off the walls through the doorway. Coulson fought with deadly precision as he usually did but he was nothing compared to the Hawk. The older agent remembered training this guy and he was just a good as and better now.

The last person received a bullet through his head and fell.

"You okay?" Clint asked.

Coulson nodded turning to look at him. His eyes locked on the light bluish ones. They were sky blue. Sky blue. Everything but the eyes vanished. His Cellist had sky blue eyes. He just knew she did.

"She has blue eyes." Coulson muttered out loud.

The eyes blinked and brought him back to reality where Clint was looking at him with a semi-concerned expression, Skye and Ward were checking the bodies and FitzSimmons were trying to figure out what they were doing.

"Yeah, Cellist does." Clint answered.

"Does what?" He asked distractedly.

The archer shook his light brown haired head. "Wake up Phil."

He started collecting his arrows again.

"Sir, should we get these guys out of here?" Ward asked ready to blast the locks.

"I've got it." Fitz replied from a computer near the end of the hallway. "Sir?" He looked questioningly at Coulson with his finger hovering over a key.

"Do it." The man ordered.

The scientist pressed the button. The doors whirred and swung.

Coulson stepped up and raised his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen of SHIELD, I am Phil Coulson. Myself and my team are here to release you."

People slowly started to emerge.

"Sir." Simmons put in as the agent scanned the crowd intently. "We didn't let the agents on the first floor out."

Coulson grimaced thoughtfully. He had blindly chased Clint.

Ward looked over. "I can go back up with Simmons and this batch. We can open those doors and clear the stairs to try and get some of these shuttle-bused off here." He nodded to the people blinking blindly in the light.

Coulson nodded then held up a hand quickly. "Wait. I don't know if she'll be there."

"The Cellist won't." Clint put in immediately with assurance.

"You know where she is." The other senior agent accused.

The archer twitched his shoulders in a non-committing kind of way. Coulson kind of scowled at him. Ward and Simmons vanished.

"Please follow Agent Ward and Agent Fitz." Coulson waved the group on re-taking charge.

The beaten and hurt group stumbled toward the stairs and slowly up them, groaning at the feat of reaching the top that lay before them. Skye gave them an encouraging smile as their small group took to the stairs to go in the opposite direction. Coulson and Clint cleared the next two floors easily. Ward kept the stairwells clear and Skye took the third floor people up. On the fourth floor Clint dismissed Fitz to escort people too.

"We won't need you for the next floor, there's only three rooms and they're manual lock."

The scientist frowned. "You know an awful lot about this building." Fitz accessed critically and suspiciously.

The blue eyes flicked to him with warning. "I helped build this bad-ass."

Fitz immediately looked guilty. "Oh, um, sorry I just…" He flinched at the scathing looks. "I'll just uh, take this group up."

The male scrambled away. Coulson felt his chest throb suddenly. The next level, which was where his Cellist existed; where she was no longer a fading image. His memory throbbed. Not so much an image but a feeling. Absolute need. Absolute care. Absolute love. It hit him so strongly that he felt his eyes water. A soft word and callused working hands. Cellist was a fighter. He knew that. His fighter.

"You ready?" Clint asked.

Coulson shoved a new cartridge in his gun. "Let's go."

They swept their way down to the last floor. It was clear, completely empty. No one and nothing at all. Three doors. Clint immediately started breaking the non-automatic locks on the two doors on the right, ignoring the left one.

"Empty." He said checking the first door. "That one is empty too." He said pointing to the door Coulson had gone to pick. The door on the left.

Clint went to the last door. Coulson glanced suspiciously at his door and pried it open anyways. Clint jabbed at the lock. Coulson poked his way in. The room had a single chair and broken handcuffs. The vent cover was off, leaning on the wall, and Coulson frowned at it. He mouthed the word vent.

"Empty." Clint reported of the last room.

"You were here." The other said softly.

He turned to the archer. Blue eyes looked at him then away. Clint raised his bow toward the door. Without an arrow he gently drew the cord back with one hand. Coulson's chest leapt heavily. Color bloomed behind his eyes.

Suddenly thundering feet made them jump.

"Let's go!" Clint yelled. "They're going to close the trap."

He grabbed Coulson's sleeve and spun him. They dashed down the hall, back to the stairs. Clint forced the other agent in front of him, nearly pushing him up the stairs. They took the stairs two at a time. Coulson stumbled a few times but the other male hauled him up kept pulling and pushing him. Metal bullets rattled around the metal staircase.

"Keep moving." Coulson yelled unnecessarily.

The man behind him grunted and tripped. He caught himself quickly. They both cursed how tall the building was and each step they took. Coulson's legs burned with the effort. Both men were fit but more than ten flights of stairs was enough to cower anyone. Finally they burst onto the roof. Clint spun on his foot, targeting down the stairs to keep them covered.

"May!" Coulson hollered pressing his comm. "We need the plane up here, now!"

Clint released one of his arrows down the stairs. "Phil." He warned.

"On it." May said unheard.

Coulson pressed his hands over his ears. Clint hit the activator. A round of fire exploded off the missile. It expanded outward eating away at the structure of the building. The bus rose up over the side of the building. It spun to put the open ramp as close to them as possible.

"Clint!" The older agent yelled.

The archer ran at him. Coulson turned toward the bus. They jumped together, rolling to change the impact point. The building crumbled from the fifth layer down. The hydraulic door slowly closed shutting out the red, orange flames licking off the building.

"May!" Coulson jumped up. "Ward, Skye, FitzSimmons."

He ran into the lab area.

"We're all here sir." Ward responded. "All the victims were shuttled a ways away to the small base near here."

Skye waved. Simmons nodded looking a bit pale but otherwise uninjured.

Fitz looked unhappy. "I'm sorry sir."

"What?" Coulson snapped.

"We didn't find the Cellist." He responded.

Everyone shifted uncomfortable.

"Oh. Him." Coulson sighed with a contemplative half smile.

"Him?" Simmons looked up.

Coulson nodded. "I wouldn't worry. He was with us the whole time."

They glanced at each other in confusion. Ward frowned but looked pointedly over the agent's shoulder. Coulson met his eyes and nodded.

"He looks like he got shot sir." Ward reported.

Coulson spun. Clint was leaning against the wall, tending a nick in his heel. His bow lay on the ground. A hand on a chord. He gazed down meticulously bandaging his foot. Blue eyes. Coulson stalked over quietly. Clint didn't look up at him as he slid down the wall to sit next to him.

"Hey Phil." He greeted tightening the tape.

"Cellist." Coulson greeted softly.

Clint yelped as he yanked the bandage too tight. Coulson sighed and tugged the tape out of his hands and tied it off.

Clint watched him carefully. "What do you remember?"

The agent sat back next to him with his shoulder against the archer's. "Everything." He put as much feeling and emphasis into the word as he possibly could.

Clint huffed and slouched into him even though he was taller. His bare arm shoved under the agent's suited arm. He twined their fingers together.

"I missed you." The archer said leaning his head against Coulson's.

The older man just turned toward him and set his chin on Clint's shoulder.


End file.
